The Little Brat
by M.Shelley
Summary: So, here it is, my first fanfiction on a book. I really love Sherlock Holmes and recently I came up with the idea of him having a daughter. I hope you're not angry with me after this. I decided to change the rating to M, because it could maybe come to graphic descriptions of violence the future. Anyway, Enjoy!
1. Prologue

My whole body ached. That was the only thing I could think of.

I kept on running and running over the dark roofs of the big city. I jumped mechanically over chimneys and the deep gorges of the streets. My destination was near.

On the following roof I stopped breathing heavily. This was the last stop for today. I forced my body to climb down to the second floor.

There was light in one of the windows. I knocked shakily on it.

Two minutes later a form appeared on the curtains behind the glass. A man in his late fifties opened. He eyed me suspiciously. "What do you want here, riffraff?" I opened my thin jacket and pulled out a letter with a noble sign "Excuse me, sir, but I'm here as a courier of Sir Robert March, Earl of Westcott. Are you Mr Charles Grain?". The old geezer looked surprised and then he reached into his pocket , gave me a coin and took the letter.

I started to climb to the roof again and as soon as he was sure I was off his window he shut it in a second.

I sat down on the roof and looked at the coin he gave me. Just a penny. Old Miser.

And so I went to the nearest chimney and took out the rope I have ever in one of my pockets. I knotted it to the chimney and the other end around my waist.

And so I slept till the early morning hours came to the city.


	2. Chapter 1

_Watson's POV_

I was accidentally in London and had a free afternoon before I should return home to my wife and children. As there is nothing more interesting to me than studying the criminological methods of my dear friend, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes I decided to go and visit him in Bakerstreet 221B.

~_time passes on and on as Watson is walking threw the streets~_

As I arrived there I knocked at the door. To my surprise my knock was immediately answered by Mrs Hudson who looked as if she hadn't had enough sleep the last nights.

She greeted me with an hasty "Oh, it's you Dr Watson. Please come in fast.". And to my renewed surprise she didn't led me upstairs to my friends' flat, instead she led me in her own leaving me rather nervous.

As she eventually sat down on a chair in her cozy kitchen I managed to asked "What is wrong Mrs Hudson ? Is everything alright with Mr Holmes?" .Suddenly she snapped at me " No, it is not everything alright with Mr Holmes . I had never thought... of all people in the world, I would've never thought he could be into such a kind of... happenings, you know Doctor?". I felt more and more nervous "What do you mean, Mrs Hudson? What happenings is he involved in?".

She straightened herself and said "Well, I would've said nothing if the police was in again, that's part of his business I think. But yesterday came one of this street children and brought a letter for him. It was dirty and old. As he opened it his face turned suddenly pale and he lost his composure and since that he wouldn't eat anymore, he wouldn't react to anything I did, he wouldn't even drink. I was curious, what kept him occupied like that and read the letter myself, and hell how could I know, it was from some kind of Prostitute from Whitechapel. And she wrote she had conceived a little baby girl from him and that if anything should happen to her, he should take care of the child."

As she ended this monologue I just stared at her for some time. My old friend has a child of his own. Somehow Mrs Hudson is right, of all the people in the world I would've never imagined that he...Suddenly Mrs Hudson beamed again in her chair " And I saw the letter was old, it was dated from 1884 and her name was Mary Jane Kelly." She looked at me like a curious bird, expecting some kind of reaction from me. Eventually I just brought out "Yeah..." She looked back at me with wide eyes "Now wasn't this the last victim of Jack the Ripper? The one that had been so terribly dismembered? I didn't read anything of a child of hers."


	3. Chapter 2 - Meeting Sherlock

_**Author's Note: **Hey there, I know I didn't update as regularly as you and myself as well want me to, but since I had and still have my final exams over the next weeks please forgive me for I do what I can. I hope you enjoy my stories though. Sincerely M. Shelley_

_Watson's POV_

Of course Mrs Hudson was right. I too, didn't remember anything of one of the murder victims having a family or a child.

My thoughts drifted off. I would actually like to know more about this girl. How would she look? Did she inherit her fathers intelligence? Or would she end up like her mother, a prostitute in such a dirty quarter?

Mrs Hudson waked me with a suddenly "Doctor". Hastily I replied "Yes, Mrs Hudson?". "Please try to talk to him. I really fear for his sanity, after a whole day..."

I remembered my friend being in harder constitution a few times, but I followed her wish and walked up to my friend's flat.

I knocked at the door with the stick that almost never left my side and spoke "Holmes". As everything remained silent I repeated my actions a second and a third time before I finally decided to just open the door.

As I came into the living room I could see what caused Mrs Hudson's angst. My friend sat on a small table as pale as chalk just staring on an old sheet of paper, the letter apparently, not moving an inch.

"Good Lord Holmes!" I shouted, eventually freeing him from his paralysis.

"Watson" he stared at me with wide, red eyes. Did this man, who has ears like a dog normally, really not hear me coming in, knocking three times ?

I saw him shudder and heard him speak with a flat, quiet voice "Watson, do you know ?"

He looked at me with an expression on his face that I never saw before on his face: shame and guilt.

"I know about your daughter, Holmes, but we can't sit around here, we have to do something! At least change your clothes, Mrs Hudson will go insane if you continue like this." I said, trying to calm him down.

"Watson, I left her. Her mother wanted me to care about her and I didn't do anything. I didn't even find her mothers murderer, I never cared about this women's families, if they could live without them, no-one actually cared. And I just left her alone in Whitechapel, Watson, in Whitechapel, Good Lord, Watson she was four when her mother was murdered, terribly murdered. I saw the corpse Watson. Everything normally in was out. Spattered and spilled about the whole room. Everywhere was blood and the corpse was incomplete. Watson, the heart was cut out and gone. What if the girl saw what I saw? Oh Watson the girl, my girl is probably dead by now, only because I left her, maybe even Jack the Ripper killed her too..."his voice faded slowly.

Trying to get him out off this constitution I said "Holmes, please! We can't even be sure that it is really your daughter. This woman was a prostitute. Anyone could be the father of this child."

He turned at me with an angered expression. "No, Watson. Mary Jane would've never lied. Never! And by the time I knew her she was not in Whitechapel and not a prostitute neither. She was just the daughter of a shop owner, selling plants and flowers. That's probably what made me fall for her, maybe even what made her what she became later on. But as the love faded I left her going my own way, leaving her alone with a child. I owe her to search for this girl, to find her, care for her like a father should do. Therefore I probably need your help for my father wasn't really around when I grew up. He was in India and there was just my uncle and Mycroft. But I cannot find her! I have no idea what her name is, just her last name "Kelly" and the half of the kids running around this quarters are Kellys. It's hopeless!"

And with this he fell back into the armchair in which he was sitting in before while I just stood and stared.


	4. Chapter 3 - The Bakerstreet Boys

_Author's Note: Hello dear readers, I wanted to apologize to all of you that I did not update for such a long time. I have to be the laziest person ever. However the exams are over and know it is time to continue. Enjoy!_

_Quinn's POV_

I ran through the streaming rain towards Bakerstreet. Nothing important, I just wanted to switch jobs with a fellow that is living here, goes by the name of "Wiggins". The man who always assigns the jobs for the street children said he'd be the leader of a gang named "Bakerstreet Boys". And I wanted his job.

In the past I had business with some of these street children-gangs, but I never wanted to join one. This way I never have to care about others, smaller ones being hungry or anything. What I mean is, I'm just 13 years of age, too young to play "mom" for a bunch of orphans and I have enough problems on my own. Furthermore, if I'd join a gang at least the leader'd want to know my secrets, and that is nobody's business.

The reason I wanted his job was simple. This way I could make it to another job assignment in time, which could mean a place to stay for the night.

I approached an old cellar level door. On it there were big letters, reading: "Bakerstreet Boys" below was smaller but with a more unpracticed hand written: "KEEP OUT OR BE BITTEN". I gulped. Whatever would bite me when I enter without permission I didn't wish to. I decided to knock, doubtfully.

A small voice was heard in its obviously spookiest tone: "Who wants to disturb my piece?". "My name is Kelly, Quinn Kelly. I want to speak with this ominous Wiggins who's said to be your chief." I answered in my best "I-am-an-angry-irish-guy-from-Whitechapel-so-do-like-I-say"-tone. The little one asked again: "What business do you have with him?". Already on my nerves I answered "The business I have to talk 'bout with 'im 's only our business. 't's professional, so nothing for little lads like you.", yes, the quality of my speech sometimes drops when I'm not in a good mood.

"What business do you mean?" a deeper voice ascended from behind me. I jumped at the sound and huskily turned to it's owner, who was a handsome but dirty young redhead, about two or three years older than myself. For the first few seconds I stammered: "Er, uhm...I-I….A-Are you Wiggins?". He answered calmly, smiling broadly: "Yes, that I am. What do you want? Join us? Why don't you come in and tell me?". "Okay, but I don't want to be bitten.", I tried to make a stern, manly face expression, what only made him laugh.

He knocked at the door and said: "Alf, everything's under control.", then he opened the door took a step in and waved me over: "Come on laddie, don't want you to catch a cold."

I felt myself blush. Shit.

_Watson's POV_

After I made my friend change we tried together to figure out a plan to find the girl. It was of no use to scam Whitechapel, the girl could be anywhere.

Wherever she is she has to stand up for herself alone or she is in an orphanage. So we decided to split us up. I would go to the different orphanages around London, they have registries so this would be done quickly. Afterward I would pay the local undertakers a visit. Holmes was right, she could be already dead, even if I doubt the undertakers would remind her.

Holmes would visit the local job possibilities for children, for he knew a few people there very well. Also he would alarm the "Bakerstreet Boys" or as he says "Bakerstreet Irregulars", a bunch of street children who would anything for him (if he pays). Last Mrs Hudson would search at the flower markets, we all thought a woman could do this part better as anyone of us.

_A few explanations by the Author: The Two and a Half Secrets of Quinn Kelly_

_Her full name is Quinn Mary Kelly. Quinn means "wise, reasonable", so I thought it would be a good name for Sherlock Holmes' daughter; Mary is after her mother._

_She never uses it, because she pretends to be a boy (yes, Quinn goes for boys too) in order to get better paid jobs. This may explain the ending of her POV._

_The Second is her being daughter of a victim of Red Jack (or Jack the Ripper). She doesn't want to talk about it (yet)._


	5. Chapter 4 - Mr Holmes

_Watson's POV_

When I returned to Bakerstreet in the late hours of the day I saw my friend, Sherlock Holmes, and Mrs Hudson already sitting at the table when I entered his flat. They both did not look very happy, although my friends' eyes lit up when I entered. But as he saw that I was alone the light in his eyes faded.

Suddenly Mrs Hudson said something, quietly and without any emotion, "There were millions of Kellys but I could not tell if it was your daughter or not, I'm sorry.". And with that she left the room. Sherlock did not move. He just said there and stared at the table.

I jumped when he said, "The Irregulars have not reported, there is still a chance to find her, even if it is a small one.", "Yes" I replied, but without true believe.

_Quinn's POV_

Wiggins and I talked for nearly half an hour. He is no one to turn over so easily, but finally he agreed to change jobs. I was ready to go when someone knocked at the door. Alf went and in an instant opened the door when he saw who was out there. "Mr Holmes!" he squealed happily. I turned my head to see who this Mr Holmes was and saw a dark figure with an eagle-like nose and a top hat standing outside. With a voice I would remember any day of my life he asked, "Hello Alf. Is Wiggins around? I need to see him. There is a little assignment for you.".

The Redhead hurried over. "Right here Mr 'Olmes! What is it?"

The man bowed down, like to whisper in Wiggins' ear, but I could hear him nevertheless, "I need you to find someone. A girl, goes by the name of Kelly, I don't know her first name. Probably in Whitechapel. Around 13 years old. The usual fee.".

My face was going pale as I listened to him. A detail description of me. Who is this guy? Why does he want to find me? Then again, maybe it is not even me, there are so many Kellys in this town. That's what I thought until the guy added "She's the daughter of the last victim of Red Jack. Remember him?", Wiggins only nodded. Then his face lit up with an idea. "No need to go outside Mr 'Olmes, we have a Kelly right here. Come over, laddie!" and with that he gestured towards me. Slowly I stood up, fastening the cap over my red locks. When I approached Wiggins he laid an arm around my shoulders, causing me to blush, "May I introduce you. Mr Sherlock Holmes, this is my dear friend Quinn Kelly. Quinn this is Mr Holmes, the famous detective.". We shook hands, it felt weird, a true Gentleman and a street boy like me. Wiggins continued, "Maybe Quinn can ask around in the family. Anyway you can look for her, the pay's good you know, better than those jobs of us.", he patted my shoulder while my face could not decide if it should be pale like chalk or red like a tomato.

"I-If I may ask, Mr Holmes, why does a famous detective search for a street girl? What do you want from her?", I managed to get out. He looked saddened, but answered slowly, "It… is of private nature. I just have to speak with her."

The half of myself wanted to burst out: It's me, It's me! Now where is that payment you mentioned? , but I could not possibly do that after Wiggins already introduced me as a boy, could I? And so I just went to my job, trying to think of how I have business of "private nature" with this ominous Mr Holmes.


	6. Chapter 5 - A Matter Of Trust

_Quinn's POV_

In the evening I had decided it would be good to spend that little free time that I had to spy on that Bakerstreet Boy's headquarter. So I positioned myself on a roof just above their cellar entrance, careful not to draw a shadow.

I watched this Mr Holmes come out of one of the earlier, nicer numbers of Bakerstreet, and go to the cellar. The question what his business was kept my mind busy the whole day, I almost tripped in one of those horrid machines. How would he react, when he heard that Wiggins had nothing? I mean how could he?

But to my surprise Wiggins seemed to have something. I listened closer when I heard him speak proudly.

"Of course, Mr Holmes, we didn't find her, but we found a few things about her. Was not easy, but we managed." Holmes seemed intrigued by that.

"We found out that this girl has practically disappeared after the murder of her mother. But we found out her name, seems we've made a little mistake this morning Mr Holmes." Holmes expression was now puzzled, but quickly blanked and he just stared at the boy in front of him.

"Her full name is Quinn Mary Kelly, Mr Holmes, and surprise, surprise, as soon as the girl disappeared a boy appeared famous for taking over almost any job. I doubt we'll see him, uhm, her again Mr Holmes, if he, she has done something. It was not possible to make out an address, so she seems to sleep in the streets, we would have found any other kind of stay, Mr Holmes."

Holmes did not seem to react he just stood and stared. Suddenly the ground beneath me shivered. Not only one, a bunch of tiles crashed down and I with them. I hastily grabbed a hold on the downspout. The tiles almost crushed the two on the street and I screamed as loud as I could. In this moment nothing was important to me, other than I did not want to die.

Alarmed from my screams Holmes and Wiggins looked up to me. My cap flew down to them and I heard it hit the floor. For a moment they just stood and stared up to me and my red locks flying in the wind. Suddenly I heard Holmes shout something. It sounded like, "Quinn, don't panic, I'll come get you soon, just hold on a little longer!".

_Who does he think he's talking too? Of course I would just let me drop! _I almost had to stifle a laugh through my tears. I simply could not deny being Black Mary's daughter, no matter in which situation. Just then I heard heavy footsteps and surprised calls from inside the house. The window besides me opened and Mr Holmes leaned out, "Quinn, let go of it!"

"What?! Are you crazy? Do you want me to die?"

He murmured something under his breath what sounded like, "As stubborn as her mother.", then he added loudly, "No, I want you to swing towards me, so I can catch you!".

"Who tells me that you are going to catch me?"

"You would just have to trust me!"

"Why are you searching for me anyway?"

"What?", now he looked surprised.

"What is this business we have, Mr Holmes?"

"I'll tell you, if you're safe, not out here."

"Okay, I trust you, but only for this moment!", I yelled at him and did as he suggested. I managed to swing and let go of the downspout right before it too crashed downwards. Luckily he grabbed me around the waist and hovered me inside. We both collapsed on the floor afterward.

"Don't do this ever again, okay?", he asked breathing heavily, "I try too, but I can't promise anything.", I gasped back and we both laughed.

The next thing we saw was the angry faces of the house owners, so we hurried to get out.

On the street Wiggins ran up to us and hugged me tightly, "So glad you're alright, laddie, uhm lassie that is, is it?". As an answer I just laughed and hugged him back. He seemed to be surprised by that. Holmes stifled what was some kind of half a laughter and half an indignant cough.

"Oh, yes, sorry. You wanted to talk with her, Mr Holmes.", Wiggins even blushed. "It is alright.", said Holmes while he took out his purse and handed Wiggins some money. All of sudden we both had big eyes, Wiggins and I. There were five pounds. But Holmes only winked at him and Wiggins quickly ran back to the cellar. Then Holmes gestured towards me to take his arm. I shrugged my shoulders, got my cap from the ground and took it.


	7. Chapter 6 - Moving In

_Author's Note: Okay, the break was long, but I too have other stories and I study! So please forgive me._

_Watson's POV_

The first thing that caught my eyes was my friend grinning from one ear to another. The next thing had her tiny arms slung around one of his. She watched with wide eyes as she entered in his living room.

Mrs Hudson gasped when the dirty street child entered. "Mr Holmes," she started, "is this...". Holmes did not react to this but instead led the child to the couch. It took a seat and watched him curiously taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

"Watson, Mrs Hudson, it is my honor and my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Quinn Kelly, my daughter.", he stated, "Quinn, this is my dear friend Watson and my landlady, Mrs Hudson.".

We all gasped, the child, I and Mrs Hudson. Of course we knew about the child, suspected something, but hearing him say that was completely different to just know that there is some girl out in the streets. Today I think, Quinn was the most surprised of us. I suspect he did not tell her before and to hear that there is out of nothing some kind of family to one must have been a great shock for her.

No one of us moved for minutes, then I stood up and walked towards the girl. She for herself stood up too and we shook each others hand. "It is nice to finally meet you, Ms Kelly. Holmes worried a lot about you, and we too.", I shot a glance towards Holmes and Mrs Hudson. The girl just looked up to me, "Uhm, thank you? I-I think it is nice to meet you too, b-but this, this is just crazy. I just can't handle this yet, sorry.", she stammered.

Mrs Hudson came up to her, took her arm and led her towards my old room, "Come on, Dearie. We will get you something nice. You must be hungry. And tired. I will prepare dinner while you can dress yourself in one of my old dresses. Just until we can find you something right, tomorrow. See, this will be your room...", her voice faded and as the door closed Holmes and I burst out into laughter. Maybe poor Quinn was the daughter Mrs Hudson never had.

Almost twenty minutes later Mrs Hudson came out, hurried downstairs and hurried, packed with multiple pieces of clothes back up. Only to be out five seconds later.

As she was downstairs and you could hear her preparing what must be the richest dinner we ever had, a small, red haired head popped out of the door to my old room. She had been visibly cleaned and wore one of my old shirts.

"Who is going to tell her that I don't wear dresses?"


End file.
